


The Prompt Machine: v.ThunderIron

by singingwithoutwords



Series: The Prompt Machine [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hopeful Ending, that sci-fi/fantasy thing marvel's asgard does so well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 18:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17493209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingwithoutwords/pseuds/singingwithoutwords
Summary: Fictober prompt: star, heartwarning(s):mention of major injury





	The Prompt Machine: v.ThunderIron

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober prompt: star, heart
> 
>  **warning(s):** mention of major injury

When Odin presented Thor with Mjolnir, he told his son it had been forged from the heart of a dying star.  At the time, Thor was young and self-absorbed enough not to ask what happened to the rest of the star; he was simply pleased to have such a unique weapon.

Years and decades and centuries passed, and where Mjolnir had come from faded from mind entirely.  Thor traveled the realms, fighting for the glory of Asgard, defeating her enemies and spreading her goodwill.  He never doubted Mjolnir’s loyalty, nor his own right to wield her. Why should he, after all, when no one else did?

Then came the battle, on a distant planet for which neither its own people nor Asgard had a name.  The natives were not advanced or powerful, but they fought with commendable spirit, not a single warrior surrendering or retreating, and Odin at last agreed to send Thor.

As soon as the Bifrost left Thor on the planet’s surface, the fighting among those who could see him ceased.  The natives, meldings of men and primitive technology, lowered their weapons and turned almost as one to regard him with something like awe and something like horror.

A murmur that was nothing Allspeak could make sense of ran through the crowd as Thor stepped away from the landing site, and they melted away.  Not retreating, but clearing a path as the murmur rose and fell around him.

There was a certain beauty to the city, beneath the wounds of battle.  It was of shining silver, full of sleek curves and lush flora, laid out in an orderly grid of intersecting streets radiating outward from the main square.  No Asgardian had yet made it to the main square alive, but not a single native attempted to impede Thor’s progress even as he reached it.

The main square was somewhat smaller than Odin’s palace, the temple at its center smaller still, rising not even as high as the buildings that surrounded it.  It was silver as the city, decorated with brilliant blue lines, and its great doors stood open.

The man standing on the threshold was not one of the natives.  He was much smaller, both in height and in build. He wore the garb of a priest or a magician as he waited empty-handed, deep brown eyes wary.  Thor stopped some distance away to study him, and Mjolnir pulled against his grasp.

The man tensed, one hand going to his chest, and his gaze slide from Thor to his weapon.

“You have my heart,” the man said, in a voice that broke with pain and disbelief.  “Why do you have my heart?”

Odin’s words rose through his memory as Thor looked between the man and Mjolnir.  The heart of a dying star, his father had told him. Dying. Not yet dead.

Mjolnir urged, and Thor stepped forward.  The man did likewise, stumbling as if pulled by an invisible thread rather than moving under his own power.  “How can you live with no heart?”

The man laughed.  It was a strangled, mirthless sound.  “That depends on what you consider living,” he answered, pulling open the front of his robes.

In the center of the man’s chest, surrounded by scars, was a silver circle around a glowing disc of blue that pulsed subtly to the tempo of a rapidly beating heart.  Thin lines of blue like those that covered the temple radiated outward from the circle in all directions, creeping underneath his robes and up his neck.

Thor stepped closer as Mjolnir warmed in his hand.  Though it pained him, he lifted her, holding her out.  She was not his to keep; he could not call himself a true prince of Asgard if he did not surrender her to her rightful owner.

The man reached as well, placing his hand on her, and closed his eyes a moment before gently pushing her away.

“She isn’t my heart any longer, Prince Thor,” the man said sadly.  “She won’t leave you.”

“There must be a way to compel her-”

“No.  Even if you abandon her, she won’t have me.  She’s judged you and only you worthy of her. Keep her, with my blessing.”

“But- your heart-”

“No longer exists.  I’ve survived this long without it; I imagine I’ll survive a bit more.”

Thor hesitated, torn.  “Come back to Asgard,” he suggested.  “Surely someone there can fix this.”

The man smiled, without joy or amusement behind it.  “Some things, once broken, can’t be fixed,” he said. “If you want to compensate me, ask Allfather Odin to leave my people and our world alone.”

“It will be done,” Thor promised, silently vowing to find a great deal more he could do.

The man’s smile widened into a true one.  “You’re a good man, Prince Thor,” he said.  “If my heart must be in someone else’s keeping, I’m glad it’s in yours.”

“May I know your name?” Thor asked.

“The people here named me Anthony when they found me.”

“Anthony,” Thor repeated, bowing as though to an equal.  “Thank you. I will see that your request is answered immediately.”

He straightened and turned, glancing back once before beginning the trek back to the battlefield.  He would make certain Odin called off the attack, then he would return. Though it felt wrong to take Anthony’s heart away with him again, he couldn’t help but feel as if he left at least part of his own behind in exchange.


End file.
